


koffer-pack-moment

by johnnyfucksup



Category: Friends (TV)
Genre: Angst, Depression, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Gay, Getting Together, M/M, References to Depression, Runaway, angsty gays i guess, but happy ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-20
Updated: 2018-10-20
Packaged: 2019-08-05 00:55:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16357508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/johnnyfucksup/pseuds/johnnyfucksup
Summary: Chandler Bing is a twenty-five-year-old and gives up on trying to find love.





	koffer-pack-moment

**Author's Note:**

> here i go again~  
> on monday, school starts again, so i guess this was my motivational spurt for a while. just warning y'all
> 
> (koffer-pack-moment is a german word constellation which a few friends of mine and I use when we're fucked and sad and overwhelmed with life, so we talk about packing up our stuff and run away, somewhere without our stupid problems, and it matches my story. so, if someone who knows me personally reads this: hoi brudis, i ha euches wort klaut, uups, merci pädu, merci debs :))

Chandler Bing doesn’t know, what’s fucking wrong with him.

He’s a twenty-five-year-old single guy who has had about three girlfriends in his life.

And all those girlfriends weren’t really _girlfriends_. They were girls which sympathised enough to give him a chance, even though he never really deserved a chance. And those girls knew exactly well that they would never last. He himself knew it. 

But somehow, he always fucks up anyways. 

If he likes a girl, if he doesn’t. If he feels alone and wants to have some company, if he really feels like he could be in love with one of them. He always fucks up.

He really doesn’t know what’s wrong with him to always scare away those poor girls. Because some of them really deserve better. Actually, _everyone_ deserve something better than him. 

Chandler Bing is a twenty-five-year-old and gives up on trying to find love. 

(He doesn’t believe in soulmates. And he’s pretty sure that even if such a thing were… well, a _thing_ , he wouldn’t have one.)

xx.

When Ross and Rachel – finally – get together after so many tries and so much pining, Chandler isn’t happy for them. 

It’s not like he’s a bad person – he really _isn’t_ – it’s just because he’s so fucking _lonely_ and he’s also pretty sure that he’ll never find what Ross and Rachel seemed to have found in each other. He’s so fucking sure that it hurts. 

He tries to be happy for his best friends. He really _tries_. Because Ross has had some really bad luck with women and Rachel with men. They are good people. So fucking nice and lovely and caring and they really fucking deserve to be happy. They are good for each other. And they are so happy. They have found each other. They deserve it. 

But doesn’t Chandler deserve something too?

(He really tries. But he can’t be happy. Not even for Ross and Rachel.)

xx.

Monica and Richard are a couple now, too. 

They laugh together, cook together, watch these old and cringey movies, cuddle on the couch together. When they’re together, the world seems like it’s not the _absolutely worst place_. They look so content. So wish-less-ly content. 

Chandler loves his friends. And he loves that they’re happy. 

But he can’t bring himself to be happy himself. 

xx.

Chandler Bing hasn’t left the house for weeks now. 

He doesn’t change his clothes, he doesn’t even _shower_ when it’s not necessary. He doesn’t go out to eat or to work anymore. He works from home, he orders his food – for some weeks he hasn’t eaten anything other than Chinese take away and pizza – and the only human interaction he has is with Joey. Or with Monica and Rachel when they cross the hallway to visit him. Monica often cooks some healthy meals for him that he doesn’t survive only on fast food. Rachel brings him movies and books that might interest him because she knows that he hasn’t got anything else than his work and his tv. 

Ross comes by regularly, speaks to him, even though he doesn’t really speak back. But Ross comes by anyways, tells him about his work, tells him about his students, brings him newspapers and intellectual books about dinosaurs and archaeology.

Chandler isn’t alright. And he doesn’t pretend that he is. Because he _isn’t_.

He has clinical depression and he knows it. But he can’t even bring himself to go and see his therapist. Or take his medicine. 

Chandler isn’t alright. He hasn’t been for a long time now. 

But… he could be worst. 

He drinks beer and vodka for breakfast and he only eats junk food and he doesn’t leave the house anymore, he doesn’t shower regularly, he doesn’t really leave his bedroom. But he could be worse. 

Because there still is Joey. 

Joey Tribbiani, the best breathing human being that ever walked on this shitty planet. His best friend, his roommate, his _everything_. 

Without Joey, Chandler would be dead now. He’s pretty sure about that. 

Because Joey cares. Joey only ever leaves the house when necessary, sticks around him as much as he can. Joey only leaves the house for shopping and working, he takes care of everything, of the financial things, of the cleaning and of the cooking. Joey never asked why Chandler is this depressed, how he could end up like that. Joey just accepts the situation, accepts _him_ and his shitty depression and just goes on.

Without Joey, Chandler would be fucked. 

Well, actually, Chandler _is_ fucked. But not as fucked as he could’ve been without his best friend. 

(Chandler kind of is happier with his depression and Joey than he ever was in his life. Oh, the irony.)

xx.

Joey doesn’t go out anymore, as well. 

He doesn’t go on dates or to parties, he hangs around with Chandler, watches movies and stupid tv shows with him, cooks for him, eats with him. Sometimes, he even sends him to take a shower or to change his clothes. Sometimes, Joey even helps him to change the clothes. 

Joey is lovely and careful and such a good guy. 

And Chandler hates himself, more and more, every day. 

Because Joey doesn’t deserve to be sitting around his depressed ass.

So Chandler makes a decision. 

xx. 

One day, Chandler packs up his stuff. 

He doesn’t leave his bedroom until he has packed up everything he owns. His friends knock on his doors for days, trying to speak to him through the door. But he never answers. He doesn’t react on the knocks and the desperate tries of his friends. 

He just packs up his stuff. 

And then he waits until he’s sure that nobody is in the apartment. That everyone is at work, because, even if he is a depressed fuck, they have to go to work sometimes. Even Joey. 

And when everyone is away, when he’s alone in this apartment that he has always loved, he goes. He takes his stuff, his boxes, his clothes, his everything, and flees out of here. 

He doesn’t look back. He can’t. Because he wouldn’t be brave enough if he did. So he just takes his shit and disappears. 

(It’s the best for Joey. And the worst for himself.)

xx.

Chandler has left New York. 

He has bought a new phone, has rented a new apartment in New Jersey and has asked for a new position in his job. 

He has begun a new life. 

Has left everything behind him, hasn’t looked back ever since.

(Of course he looks back sometimes. He sits in his apartment at night, alone in the dark, and doesn’t even know why he did that and why he’s here. He is alone and lonely and depressed, but he’s also relieved to know that Joey’s free again. That he’s not an emotional baggage anymore. That Joey can go on with his life Without him, though, but that’s okay.)

xx.

One day, Chandler’s walking, trying to find something to eat, when he hears a voice. 

Not just a voice, actually. He hears _the voice_. Of his best friend, his former roommate.

He hears Joey. He hears this wonderful, sweet, and damn loud voice, screaming out his name.

It doesn’t even surprise him, you’re able to hear Joey long before you can see him. But somehow it _does_ surprise him. He _did_ move away from New York for a reason. He moved to New Jersey, a place where no one of his friends would ever come near. And yet, here he is, standing there, mouth wide open, and Joey yells and screams out his name, running towards him. 

Joey’s running at full speed, by the way, and he doesn’t seem to slow down. It doesn’t even seem like he _wants_ to slow down. He runs, almost gets hit by cars, bumping in everyone he passes. 

And then Chandler gets hit by all the hurt Joey must’ve been stocking inside of him. Joey pulls Chandler in a hug that almost breaks all his rips and his spine, presses their chests together, doesn’t let go. 

And only this moment shows Chandler, how fucking stupid he is. 

Joey’s hug is heartbreaking – and maybe rip-breaking –, it’s soft and hard at the same time, it’s so loving and caring and brutally honest. It shows all the hurt and the suffering, all the love and the forgiving. 

“Joey, I –“

“No, don’t talk. Just… stay. Like this,” Joey breathes in his neck, runs his hands up his sides, up his spine, pulls Chandler even closer, so close that Chandler is afraid to breath, not even a paper sheet could fit between the two of them. 

Joey lets his hands wander around Chandler’s back, scrapes his neck, traces his hair line. He presses his face against Chandler’s, breathing him in, not letting him go. 

But then he does. 

Joey leans back, still holding on his shoulders and his neck, running his hands through his hair.

And then Joey leans in again, presses their mouths together, hard and brutal and so fucking desperate. Chandler doesn’t even have time to be surprised. Or shocked. Or anything, really. He just clings onto his best friend, digging his nails in his leather jacket, leaning even more into the kiss. 

Chandler’s cheeks are wet now, Joey’s are, too, maybe they’re both crying, maybe not. 

Chandler feels like all his emotions are spilling, returning to him, he doesn’t feel like an empty ghost anymore, just wandering around on this earth. He feels like he has found what he’s always been missing, what he’s always been searching for. It’s almost like his depression disappears, like the darkness in his life clears, like his reborn again. 

(Maybe he’s overexaggerating. But he’s kissing Joey Tribbiani, after he left him and his friends, his family, really, without a word, and just moved and disappeared, after he practically gave up on himself and his life. Maybe overexaggerating isn’t that bad. Maybe he doesn’t even care.)

“You stupid – you selfish little –, you!” Joey pushes him away now, yells again, sounding angry and mad and sad and relieved, like he’s having an odyssey of emotions right now, he probably is, and Chandler feels like a piece of shit. 

And he is, definitely. 

“You can’t ever leave me again. I wouldn’t survive it,” Joey falls back against him, nuzzling his face between his neck and his shoulder, letting his shoulders drop and grabbing Chandler’s hands. 

“I… I won’t. I couldn’t. Not after a kiss like that,” and Joey really laughs at that. He laughs quietly, relieved, a bit surprised, even, but he laughs. 

“I missed you. I even missed your stupid jokes,” Joey whispers roughly. 

Joey’s hands are shaking, his shoulders are dropped, his cheeks wet. And Chandler hates himself more than he ever hated himself. Or hated anyone or anything. Not because Chandler is an asshole – because he is, he knows that –, not because Chandler has been selfish – because he has been, he knows that as well –, just because he has hurt Joey.

He hurt Joey in a way like he never though he would. He never thought he would be an asshole towards Joey. 

(But he also never thought he would run away. What does he know, anyway.)

And suddenly, Chandler doesn’t even remember why he ran away a few month ago. He can’t justify it, can’t explain it for himself. Joey is the most wonderful human being on this shitty earth, the only good person that ever existed in his life. 

And he left him.

But now, Joey is right here, in front of him, holding him, not letting him go. He doesn’t even seem angry anymore. He doesn’t scream, doesn’t yell, doesn’t make a scene – even though Chandler would understand if he did –, he’s just _here_ and it’s so much more Chandler deserves. 

Chandler is overwhelmed. Overwhelmed with love and support, he is speechless and breathless. 

“I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to be. Now you’re here. I’ve found you. And I’m not lettin’ you go, ever again,” Joey kisses him again, cups his face and pulls him near. 

“Is that a proposal?” Chandler chuckles against Joey’s lips, feeling the smile creep up, feeling the tears dry. 

“If that’s what it needs for you to stay, yes.”

“If that’s what I get for staying, then yes.”


End file.
